


Head's in heaven, soles are in hell

by LithiumReaper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiumReaper/pseuds/LithiumReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek grins against Stiles's lips and pulls away slowly, Stiles's bottom lip caught between Derek's teeth. Stiles's pupils are blown wide and Derek muses that if nobody notices the tent in his too tight jeans, he might look high. Maybe he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head's in heaven, soles are in hell

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a really long time ago, but I just tweaked it to fit Season 4.
> 
> It isn't beta'd, but I tried to catch all of the errors. Please let me know if there are any errors, glaringly or otherwise.
> 
> The title is from a Fall Out Boy song, w.a.m.s, which I strongly suggest you listen to.
> 
> Kudos, comments and concrit most welcome <3

Derek has him up against the headboard of his bed, pulling Stiles's head at an angle that Derek is pretty sure he'll bitch about non-stop in a few hours. At least he's not complaining now, neither of them are, especially not when they're busy fucking each other anywhere and everywhere. Derek curls his arm under Stiles's head, lifting him up so that Derek can push his head back down into the thin matress beneath them with his tongue, teeth and lips.

Fuck. He loves making out with Stiles. His lips are full and soft and he has a tongue that could make the devil blush, especially when he curls it around Derek's. Pushing his abdomen down against Stiles's crotch makes the younger man whine pittifully and Derek almost wishes that they hadn't gotten carried away as quickly as they had, because Stiles is pushed down on both of Dereks pillows and he can't reach where he wants to, to gain a bit of that delicious friction that has Stiles hard as a rock and pushing up into Derek's stomach.

Derek grins against Stiles's lips and pulls away slowly, Stiles's bottom lip caught between Derek's teeth. Stiles's pupils are blown wide and Derek muses that if nobody notices the tent in his too tight jeans, he might look high. Maybe he is.

Derek moves back from the warm body beneath him, and Stiles whines again. It sounds beautiful, desperate. Hooking his forearms under Stiless knees, Derek tugs hard. Stiles scoots down the bed slightly, pillows still caught beneath him at an awkward angle. Derek smiles at how completely uncomfortable Stiles looks, at how debauched he looks. Horny is a good look on him, Derek decides.

Tugging the pillows up underneath Stiles's head, Derek grins. Stiles's lips are red and swollen, spit creating a special shine on his lips and chin. Derek can't help it, he can't help the want and need and lust. Pushing back down against Stiles, their crotches mercifully aligned. The first clothed thrust of hips and dicks, is like coming home, Stiles's dick fitting like fingers in a glove next to Derek's, and rubbing against his through too many layers of jeans and underwear, but Derek doesn't care.

Their kisses slow down, almost matching the slow grind of their hips, except Derek needs more, pulling Stiles's thigh up over his hip. The angle changes and somehow so does the positioning of their bodies. Derek lies half on top of Stiles, hand alternating between squeezing Stiles's ass and tugging on that fucking long leg to pull Stiles up against him. It's messy and uncoordinated, but Derek wouldn't have it any other way.

They've given up on breaking apart to breathe, instead opting to suck each others tongues and breathe through their noses. Stiles winds a hand into Derek's hair, tugs lightly as he pushes his hips up. Derek pushes back, squeezes Stiles's ass harder and the friction is heavenly.

"Ten minutes!" Scott bellows from somewhere in the loft and Derek groans. He tolerates the younger man, but changing his caller id to 'Biggest Cock-block Ever' just doesn't seem apt enough. Stiles moans and pushes up against Derek again, red face pulling away to hide in Derek's neck.

"Fuck." He breathes and digs his nails into the flesh of Dereks hips. Stiles's shirt has migrated to under his arms and Dereks own soft grey henley on its way to join it.

"Not right now, maybe later." Derek can't help but tease. In the back of his mind he knew that starting something so close to going on a hunt for the benefactor would just be problematic, but the positively sinful look of a completely ruffled Stiles Stilinski is worth the interuption.

"Shut up." Stiles whines and Derek grinds his hips back down against Stiles's one, twice before pulling away and slipping off of the bed and to the door.

"Come on, show time." Derek winks and walks to where he's pretty sure Scott is tapping his foot like an imaptient mother. The frustrated drawn out "motherfucker" coming from his bedroom is enough to put Derek in a brilliant mood.

:::


End file.
